White and Red
by emily.down
Summary: The Sixth Year at Hogwarts presented through Draco and Ginny's eyes. Their lives intertwine.
1. Chapter 1

_The action takes place in Harry's Sixth Year, examining Draco and Ginny's lives. The story begins on the train to Hogwarts. Thank you for reading. _

1: Secret Thoughts

*

"Even you think she's good looking, don't you, Blaise, and we all know how hard you are to please!"

"I wouldn't touch a filthy blood traitor like her whatever she looked like," Blaise replied disgusted.

Pansy sneered and twisted another lock of Draco's hair.

Come to think of it, Draco had never considered whether Ginny Weasley was attractive. To him she had always been the bratty young sister of the insufferable Weasel, Potter's sidekick. The only thing marginally interesting about her was that she had been under The Dark Lord's command when she was eleven.

He tried to remember what she looked like.

"What are you thinking about, love?" Pansy asked.

"I was just thinking about…Hogwarts. It's a tired excuse for a school isn't it?"  
Now, he was one of_ them_ and the obligation to attend the school seemed rather futile. The mark still seethed his skin and it wasn't an overall attractive sign he would show off with.

But maybe Pansy and Blaise could share some of his pride.

"Thank Merlin I won't be stuck there next year."

"What do you mean? You're not coming back Draco?" she asked alarmed.

"All I can tell you is that I have bigger plans ahead. I'm continuing my father's work, after all," he said smirking.

Blaise raised an eyebrow quizzically. "You are joking."  
"I wouldn't joke with these things. It's, after all, an honour."  
He did not really think it was an honour. In fact, he was sure it was a punishment for Lucius, but he was rather partial to it. It made him seem heroic and brave in his own eyes. It made him believe he was making a huge sacrifice for his family.

The reality was rawer; he was saving his own skin, but the fact that he was involved in such dark matters made him think he was a powerful young man.

However he wouldn't let two wealthy Slytherins, coming from pure-blood families, know that.

"So then…you received the privilege?" the boy asked mockingly.

"I received what I deserved."

"Draco…are you really… I mean…" Pansy whispered, choking on her words.

He undid the first button of his cuff and she lowered her head and saw through the gap a dark smear that was not very visible, but she was apt to recognize it from afar.

"Good Lord…" she mumbled. "You are amazing, Draco."  
He rolled his eyes tiredly and sagged back into her lap. A small corner of his mind had wanted a different reaction. He had wanted her to protest and shriek and cry and tell him he was insane. Having done none of that, Draco was sourly disappointed with her.

"As amazing as a Malfoy could be," Blaise commented.

* * *

Breaking Harry Potter's nose had felt good, almost too good in fact. He hated the pure heroism that stuck to his head wherever he went, like a postcard that read "Potter, the saviour". His ridiculous fantasy that he could save and heal and destroy evil through love and kindness made Draco want to punch him into a coma.

The stupid git knew nothing about real darkness, but he professed a better understanding of it. He always wanted to be there to save the day.

He had no right to approach Draco.

As he sat on the black leather sofa in front of the green flames, his mind was cast back to the day before the train journey. He had kissed his mother goodbye.

Did she know that, by the end of the year, he might either be dead or…well what was the other alternative? He would have to be successful in order to see that and he doubted he had a chance. Yet somehow, the sheer impossibility of the situation gave him motivation and spirit. He thought that if Dumbledore was such a great wizard a sixteen year old boy could kill him unnoticed, because he was so used to powerful, older opponents. Of course, he thought he was mad.

Internally he was cussing his father with every known curse to man. He hated him like the Devil. He had been the only cause of their distress, his mother and his. He had ruined everything for him.

If he did get out of Azkaban he would be sure to spit in his face.

Draco closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but a strange thought surfaced in his mind.

Had he seen Ginny Weasley tonight? He wanted to see if she really was attractive. He hadn't managed to do it.

* * *

Ginny certainly did not appreciate personal confessions. Not when the person confessing was Lavender Brown and the cause of her distress was her flaring passion for her brother.

"Hermione's so lucky to be hanging out with him every day. I've seen him; he is such a dependable friend! He always comforts her and makes jokes that make her laugh," she was saying.

_Gee Lavender, can't you think why Ron and Hermione spend so much time together? _she thought.

"And he's always there for Harry. He's been through so much for him. He's the real hero, the one that sits quietly in the shadow," she continued undeterred by Ginny's amused expression.

"He takes advantage of every chance he's got to brag about something," Ginny commented. "I highly doubt modesty is among his virtues."  
Lavender shrugged her shoulders noncommittally.

"Too much modesty would spoil his real character. He's so kind and handsome…He's grown pretty tall, don't you think?"  
Ginny wanted to cringe in her seat. She could not picture her brother in the position of an eligible boyfriend, much less attractive.

"Lavender, if you really want him to know, you should tell him, straight out. Unless you want _me_ to tell him."  
"No! No, no. I just…wanted to be close to him, through you."

Ginny managed to make her smile less bitter than intended. It was nice to discover some people approached her for Ron.

She had friends; she had no reason to complain. She was happy. Well, as happy as a fifteen year old Weasley could be.

She was scared, dead scared, but did not want to admit that to herself. The sheer notion of her family being in the slightest danger put her out for days on end.

She was always worried and troubled, though it wasn't visible when she was around friends and acquaintances. She knew the Weasleys were a predictable target, being the closest to Harry Potter and a pure-blood family with…rebellious principles and beliefs. No matter how much she loved Harry and no matter how much she wanted to stand by his side and face evil, she was still scared.

She was ashamed of it, but there it was.

She could probably face a Death Eater. She had done it before. But she couldn't face death. Not when it came unexpected.

"I hope Ron will find out eventually what a faithful fan he has," she replied smiling.

She and Lavender had been sitting on her bed for an hour, talking about trivial things, until the latter finally found the courage to tackle this subject.

"Speaking of which," Lavender started, "what happened to you and Dean? Someone was getting out of line on the train."

"What do you mean?"  
"Come on, Ginny. Dean Thomas was all over you. Even Finnigan observed and he is usually quite daft."  
"Oh, well…that was nothing serious," she said shaking her head. "Emily Flouring was in the same compartment."

"So?"  
"Whenever she went to the bathroom, Dean stopped focusing on me and talked to Seamus. When she came back he was sweet-talking me again. It was obvious he was trying to make her jealous. She had rejected him last summer and now he was getting revenge, in a way."

Lavender seemed shocked. "Emily? He fancies Emily? Well, I would have never guessed!"  
"Yes, what with your infatuation I suppose you didn't," Ginny teased.

Lavender punched her playfully and scurried off the mattress.

"I'd better go now. Parvati is waiting for me in the other room. Thanks…for listening Ginny. It was nice talking to you."  
"Anytime," she replied waving as the other girl disappeared behind the door.

She debated with herself if she should tell Hermione about Lavender's fancy. The two did share a bedroom and she feared that Hermione wouldn't feel comfortable anymore, knowing the girl next to her had fantasies with Ron.

On previous occasions, when she had tried to help, she had muddled things up. Perhaps she would do worse and make them both miserable.

She did smile at the notion of Dean Thomas liking her for real. He was not her type though and he couldn't make her happy.

Maybe no one could, really. Well, not unless they were five feet nine, had wavy brown hair and cold sparkling eyes and could talk to snakes. Tom. The name was a common thought every day.

Obsessing over psychotic power-raged killers was not healthy or advised, but little girls are impressionable and they can warm up to just about anyone as long as they listen and care. And Tom Riddle had done just that.

She didn't love him, but she wished that he loved her.

Ginny was glad Harry could not enter her mind.


	2. Chapter 2

_New chapter. I wanted to mention this is quite AU so I will be changing some things in the book. Some things will happen faster, some will have a different turn. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. Thank you for reading. _

2: Dilemma

Ginny picked at her food groggily. She had drawn a ketchup smile on the omelettes, but that did not raise her appetite. It was morning and she hadn't finished part of her homework, not to mention she had Transfiguration coming right away and McGonagall was stricter than ever, what with Fifth year being an important crossroads for career options.

She had given no thought to the eventuality of a future job in the Ministry or anywhere else and she doubted her parents could afford higher studies.

That is – if she would be able to reach that stage in her life. Not that she wanted to be dramatic but the world was currently on the brink of war and a mad Hitler figure was bending the wizardly world to his wishes.

Hermione was feeling slightly sore herself, but her reasons had nothing to do with the current worries in Ginny's head.

"They need to find a useful occupation during these free periods. I mean, they can barely do the non-verbal spells," she was saying and Ginny could guess she was talking about Ron and Harry of course who had been only too pleased to discover they had lessons-free breaks all throughout the week.

"So they should take extra classes?" she asked teasingly. "They're sixteen year old boys, Hermione. You can't expect too much from them."

"I'm not trying to spoon feed them education, but I think knowledge, above all things, is crucial in defeating the darkness that is encompassing us, seeing as most of it is just sheer ignorance. We don't know what we're dealing with and one must know one's enemy in order to face him."

"So…you suggest that Hogwarts can teach them that?" she asked raising a brow.

"There's no other better place to start. Plus, it would be quite useful if they qualified as Aurors in the Order," she explained, mimicking with an apple in her hand.

"And what's preventing them?"

"Well, for starters, they won't take Potions. They say they don't have the high grade for it, but I'm sure professor Slughorn, who is _not _Snape, would be more than ready to receive them, nonetheless."

Ginny felt slightly uneasy, to say the least. She would be taking the OWLs herself and all this chit-chat about it made her very insecure as to her own accomplishments. She wasn't stellar at anything to be honest, but she didn't slack. Maybe she lacked the brilliant mind, but it wasn't like she was actually giving her heart and soul for it. She was doing her work without any ups and downs, in a linear fashion that raised no concerns. However, exams were exams. Was it enough to be a mediocre student?

"Have you told them that?"

"I tried, but they won't listen to me."  
"How about you let McGonagall solve this?" Ginny started but just then the owls started flying around the Great Hall. Breakfast was almost over, the plates were cleared and the birds could land safely.

Pig landed softly on Ginny's shoulder and let a small roll of parchment out of its beak. She unrolled it curiously.

Hermione peeped over her shoulder and gave a startling sound.

"You received the same invitation. The Slug Club. Professor Slughorn already setting up a meeting?" Hermione asked amused.

"We'll find out next week, if we go," she said shrugging her shoulders.

"Ron's a bit put off that Harry and I are "in the club" and he's not," Hermione said slightly giggling, which was actually quite a rare occurrence.

"I imagine he would be. His ego couldn't bear being left out."  
Ginny reached for a goblet but before it touched her lips, a strange feeling overcame her. It was as if one of the ghosts had gone through her, but there was no one there. She wasn't feeling chilly, it was just a bad feeling, a very bad feeling.

She looked around to see if anyone had noticed the change in the air, but everyone else was just eating or talking. The hall was clearing out.

"I'd better go now, I'll be late for Ancient Runes," Hermione said patting her on the back and walking away.

Ginny still couldn't get the feeling out of her head. She hadn't felt this dreadful since that night at the Ministry, last summer. The same feeling had come over her in her Second Year, when the Dementors were guarding the school but it had nothing to do with the lifeless, miserable sensation the creatures usually inspired when in their proximity. It was something different, something she had experienced fully in her First Year…

Of course. She had sensed Dark Magic. She had just sensed Dark Magic in the Great Hall. That was almost impossible. Filch's Secrecy Sensors couldn't fail to catch this. What was the source of it?

* * *

Draco kept touching the insides of his pocket, watching the birds fly across the ceiling, carrying letters and the occasional entertaining Howlers.

But his mind was somewhere else. The necklace was cold and lifeless under his touch. His pocket felt heavy with guilt, but carrying it around felt easier.

His mother had given it to him on his departure. It was a very powerful old Black relic that she mostly wore on important occasions but she had also seen her wearing it…in front of the Dark Lord. Whether it held a protection charm or not, his mother had been careful enough to tell him that it sealed a small but significant morsel of Dark Magic.

He had been tampering with it for the past week, trying to riddle out its magic. He was fascinated by the object, not only because it held the memory of his mother, but also because with it he felt quite invincible.

Last night, he had been thinking if he could intensify the Dark Magic inside the necklace. It was a stupid, childish plan, but it was…a vague start.

* * *

A small piece of parchment had landed on Ginny's notebook. She looked behind her shoulder and saw Demelza smiling. She grinned back and opened the paper.

_Hey, Gin. Quidditch try-outs coming soon. Have you heard Potter is the new captain?_

_P.S.: Is your brother really trying out too? Lavender will have a heart attack. _

Ginny's eyes almost doubled their size when she read the small note, but madam Sprout was nearby so she did not voice her surprise.

How is it that she had not heard of or at least predicted this simple fact?

Harry was their captain. She would have to get used to hearing that. Ron had shared some ambiguous ideas with her about being Keeper, but she never thought he'd pluck up the courage to do it.

_Hi, De. Had no idea. Probably because I never bother to read the announcements on the board. Don't tell Lavender yet though, Ron can get cold feet. _

She folded the parchment and threw it on the floor, close to Demelza's seat before returning to her notebook.

She hadn't noticed that she had written "hi" on her notebook as well, but before she could scratch it away, a couple of words appeared under it.

_Hello, Ginevra. You called me?_

Her breath hitched in her throat and her hands trembled so hard that she dropped her quill. Without looking, she threw the notebook in the bag and closed it tight.

_It was just your imagination, just your imagination, _she kept repeating to herself as she put her hands over her eyes.

"Miss Weasley, are you feeling alright?" madam Sprout asked worried, stopping next to her. "Do you need to go out a bit?"

Ginny's head snapped and she bent down to pick her quill.

"No madam…I'm alright," she mumbled.

She had no idea what traumatic thought had brought on that…hallucination, but whatever it was, it was probably related to the bit of Dark Magic she had felt in the Great Hall.

* * *

The Slug Club was boring. No, correction, the Slug Club was _ridiculously _boring.

A bunch of self-absorbed children sat around an old man's table, talking about the achievements of someone they were related to, while stuffing their faces with complicated and expensive meals. Harry, Hermione and Neville looked equally mortified at being there, to say the least.

The man wasn't bad, he was just a speculator, someone who wanted to promote himself through others, someone who wanted perks, but not benefits. There was something about him, however, that she did not like. Maybe it was his falsehood, maybe it was something else she had not caught on, but whatever it was, it made her smile bitterly whenever he addressed her.

Harry, who was sitting next to her, was fidgeting with his fork, thinking about something.

"What's on your mind?"

He almost jumped out of skin as he turned his gaze on her.

"Oh, nothing, Ginny. I'm just a bit stressed you know, Quidditch try-outs coming up…and I'm the captain."  
She was sure that whatever it was, it was anything but that.

"So I've heard. Is that all?"

"It's not as easy as it seems. Angelina was pretty authoritative, I haven't got half her…"

"_I meant_, is that all that's troubling you?"

"No, but it's…complicated."  
"It's never easy with you, is it?"

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders in an apologetic way.

"Where would the fun be in that?"  
"So you do have a sense of humour," she said turning back to her plate.

"Um… Ginny, I was wondering, this Saturday…" Harry started, but just then Hermione nudged him in the ribs painfully.

"How longer must we stay?" she asked between gritted teeth.

"You're not enjoying the riveting dinner?" Harry asked faking shock.

"It's not that… The conversation is somewhat interesting but McLaggen won't stop staring at me. He has been doing that for the past ten minutes and believe me I've seen that look on Filch when he pets Mrs. Norris."

Ginny managed to conceal her laughter, but Harry wasn't as practiced.

"Harry my boy, anything amusing that you'd care to share with us?" Professor Slughorn asked jovially.

Harry coughed loudly and gulped down his water.

"Nothing, Sir…"

Slughorn smiled pleased and looked down at his watch.

"Oh, dear…I'm afraid we haven't got much time for chit-chat left, unless you don't mind losing some house points. I guess we should all be heading to our dormitories," he said getting up and brushing some cake crumbles from his tie.

"It was a pleasure to have you here and I hope I shall see you again at another _meeting_," he said mischievously, winking.

Everyone got up and bowed respectfully as the table was cleared away and one by one the students left the room. Hermione was the first to dash out, scared that McLaggen would pursue her and Ginny thought that Harry would walk with her back to the common room, but she was somewhat surprised to see the boy lingering in the professor's office. He seemed to be waiting for everyone to go.

"Harry, are you coming?" she asked disconcerted.

"I…in a minute or two," he said waving at her noncommittally.

When she saw he was bent on staying she shrugged her shoulders and left the room, but before completely going out she heard Harry speaking.

She stopped for a moment, unable to help herself.

"Harry, my boy, you're still here? Not afraid of McGonagall eh? She's a fierce one, isn't she? Is there something…you need?"  
"Actually, Sir, I was meaning to talk to you about something. I…wanted to ask you something."  
"Ask away, Harry."  
"Well, you've been teaching at Hogwarts for quite a while, haven't you? And I know you've had many students under your care."  
Ginny's brows furrowed. Why was Harry asking Slughorn this out of all questions?

"Why yes, for decades m'boy. And I particularly enjoyed working with brilliant minds like your mother's. Lily was the finest young girl I knew. Had a rare talent for Potions that I think was passed on to you," he said chuckling shortly.

Ginny had no idea Harry was a talent at Potions; she certainly knew that he was a decent student, but not far from average. What else didn't she know?

"Thank you...Sir, but I could never equal her. She was a...hero, you know. Fought against darkness until the last moment," Harry told him sadly.

"I know, Harry, I know...she was a fierce young woman, a very brave one indeed..."  
"Yes, brave. I owe her everything. She fought against...Voldemort and saved me."  
Ginny shrank back at the sound of his name, but she couldn't help feeling sorry for Harry.

"Oh, dear boy...do not say the name..." Slughorn started sheepishly.

"Why should I not? Tom Riddle...was after all, your student."  
Ginny's heartbeat quickened immediately and her cheeks turned red. Harry wanted to talk about Tom Riddle with Professor Slughorn? Probably she would have done the same, if she had had the chance, but she berated herself for the thought.

"What was he like, Sir?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Harry...this is not the time and place...I wouldn't like to talk about such things."  
"I'm sorry Sir, but...he was the murderer of my parents."  
"My boy...he...he was, well he seemed a normal boy, as normal as a brilliant boy could seem. He was talented in all fields and had remarkable ideas, but...inside him, I suppose, the real evil was hiding. I, as many others, did not know until the end."

She held her breath, her ears stretched to the utmost, but Sluhgorn was making his way towards the door and fearing discovery, she fled reluctantly.

Hearing people talking about Tom was making her mind fuzzy. Hearing details about his life and character made her heart twinge. She was tired of running so she made a short stop to catch her breath. She didn't realise she was in front of the Second Floor bathroom. It took only a second.

Ginny wasn't a big coward and certainly she wasn't silly. She wasn't afraid of that bathroom anymore. She could walk freely in it and not feel a thing, but something about the conversation she had heard made her uneasy and somewhat scared.

She heard Moaning Myrtle scream as she jumped down a toilet drain.

Slowly, she stepped inside the bathroom, keeping her guard up…for what, she knew not.

Everything was immersed in silence, but for some leaking here and there.

"Myrtle?" she called out.

She went towards the stalls, trying to find her.

Just then, she heard steps in the bathroom, clear, soft steps on the tiles.

It was Malfoy. He was walking towards one of the sinks. He touched the tap pensively as he looked in the mirror.

"You? What are you doing here?" she called out.

Draco instantly straightened and drew back suspicious.

"Weasley? What the devil brings you here?"  
"I asked you first, Malfoy," she pointed out.

"What do you think? Trying to see girls naked," he said rolling his eyes.

"Ha ha. Very convincing."  
"I don't have to explain myself to you, Weasel face. You're here still weeping after that stupid diary, I suppose?"  
"Eat your words, you arse. It's a girls' bathroom after all. So you should get out."  
"I do not intend to. What are you going to do about it? Call a teacher?"  
"Don't think I'm stupid. You're here for a reason, Malfoy."  
"Good job on figuring that out freckle-face. Now, if you don't mind leaving me alone…"

"Interested in the Chamber of Secrets?" she asked sharply.

"Only if it makes you half-dead again and out of my sight," he muttered, annoyed that she was asking him this directly.

Ginny was not ready for that blow. The attack and allusion to her life being in danger…it was low even for him.

She ran past him, hitting him hard in the shoulder.

She didn't want to cry or anything as stupid as that but it would be nice if Malfoy got eaten up by the basilisk.

She didn't stop her fast pace until she reached the common room and she threw herself on the sofa. The idiot had hurt her, but he had also been acting very…odd, to say the least.

What could he possibly want in that bathroom? What did he want from the Chamber?

The nauseating bad feeling she had at breakfast a week ago was back again, but she only felt it feebly this time. She realised she had felt it most intensely in the bathroom, but not before Malfoy had come in.

The Dark Magic she was feeling…was coming from Malfoy?

* * *

Draco leaned his hands against the sink. He had not meant to bark at her like that, but it was stressful enough that he was doing this alone. He didn't need people knowing about it.

Especially not Potter's pretend-girlfriend.

Perhaps he had meant to be nasty to her; he enjoyed that. It was one of the small pleasures of life; being a jerk.

She was indeed attractive.

He had work to do for now.


End file.
